


Gravity

by jb22fa14



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Australian Grand Prix 2016, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Internal Conflict, M/M, Marriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 04:03:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11889600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jb22fa14/pseuds/jb22fa14
Summary: Standing on the edge of death can cause you to see your world a little differently.-- Begins at Australian GP 2016 --





	1. Just Breathe

**Author's Note:**

> So this one has been sat around as a long one-shot ever since Fernando's crash, but I've decided to expand it and make it a full work. I hope you like it.

He senses it at first. A strange air lingering in the room, grabbing his attention. There’s nothing there, no-one else has noticed it. But there is definitely something, like someone has called his name, or tapped him on the shoulder. He shrugs it off, blinks slowly, once, twice. The pitch of James beside him in the commentary booth rouses him, he feels strange, like everything is moving in slow motion. His senses heightened to every smell, sound and sight.

 

That sight, it’s then he sees it, the sight of a car in the gravel.

The dust clears, swirling and twisting clouding Mark’s vision, until slowly the Haas car is revealed. The clear outline of the car beached in the gravel, is it facing the opposite direction? He can’t quite tell, perhaps he’s just spun it? But the shower of debris littered around him catches his attention, each sharp edge of carbon fibre, piercing into his eyes like shards of broken glass. The scene switches, Mark’s throat closes, his lungs constricting until there isn’t an ounce of air left within him. It takes his comrade an eternity to notice the image that is rapidly burning it’s way into Mark’s retinas. 

 

That’s when he knows. That car had been running ahead of  _ him _ . That car was not alone in the gravel. 

 

_ No. _

 

His body is rigid with fear, sounds echo around him, but all he can focus on is that screen. The blur of black crumpled into the tyre barrier. He can’t breathe, both physically and emotionally. In that moment, he’s slowly fading, his life slipping away. He can’t breathe, he can’t breathe without him. 

 

_ Just breathe.  _

 

A hand grips his leg, he barely feels it, he doesn’t need to. Nothing else matters. 

 

_ Please. Just breathe. _

 

Until…

 

A stir. A flash of blue glimmering in a sea of carnage. Blue, then white, it moves some more, edging away from the wreckage, until he sees him. Fernando. Crawling to his feet the camera pans to show his small frame staggering away from the scene. Mark takes a sharp intake of breath, his head dizzy from the rush of oxygen pouring into his bloodstream. He’s moving. Fernando is moving. But Mark knows only too well what the adrenaline of such a heavy shunt can do. He’s limping, unable to put his full weight on his feet. Mark winces at how he moves gingerly, the visor firmly closed, his eyes frantically search for any sign of scuffs on the pristine helmet.

 

He slides to the edge of his seat, clasping his hands together he instinctively reaches for his wedding ring. The band of gold, the infinite loop that ties them together. If Fernando is really ok, he will raise his hand, give a wave. That universal gesture that they’d been accustomed to for family and friends, but for each other, the choice of hand had to be the one that held their wedding ring. 

 

_ Please Nano. _

 

Fernando raises a hand, the correct hand. The Australian puffs out a heavy sigh, a weight slipping from his body. 

Mark watches on as Esteban embraces his husband, he needs to be there, he needs to be with him. To touch him, to explore every inch of his familiar frame. 

 

“Mark?” A voice whispers, the voice is connected to the hand gripping his knee. “He’s ok, he’s going to be ok” 

 

Mark nods slowly, gulping for moisture to return to his mouth.

 

—

 

Fernando feels like he’s dreaming, like he’s not completely connected to his physical being. He crouches in a small stretch of solid ground, hoping that it will steady him. Removing his gloves, he flexes his hands in and out, pressing each digit into the flat of his thumb. One, two, three, four. He feels no pain, his hands aren’t damaged. He systematically sucks air in through his nose and pushes it out through pursed lips. Each intake pulling him back to a normal head state. Staring at the wreckage of his brand new car he doesn’t allow himself to think of what could have been. All he can see is the replay of sky, then ground, then sky… Like a turn of the roulette wheel, what would be his fate. He’s glad that it ended at the ground. 

 

He stands steady, a sharp ache pulls at his knee where it slammed against the cockpit. But his head, his head didn’t hit anything, lucky is all he feels.

 

—

 

Mark isn’t entirely sure how he commentated through the remainder of the race, the last hour seems like a complete blur. Running on autopilot, the drained can of Red Bull illicitly mixed with a shot of pure adrenaline seemed to have saved him. He jabs at the button on his phone for the umpteenth time, waiting for a response from Fernando, that doesn’t arrive. He’s ok, he’s been given the all-clear from the doctors, Mark repeats to himself in his head. But the separation is killing him. They’d agreed to keep their distance in the paddock, both keen to keep their professional and private lives separate. But surely he knew this was different. He hits the speed dial, praying Fernando will answer before he makes it to the podium. 

 

—

 

In a daze, Fernando finishes the round of interviews, hoping it’s enough to convince his family he really is ok. He wears a wide smile, it’s not a cover up as such, he is genuinely happy and relieved. If not a little stunned to be standing in the paddock unharmed. As the victor crosses the finish line he makes his escape to the motorhome, gingerly climbing the stairs with Fabri he fights against his overwhelming need to find Mark. He knows Mark is busy, he knows what they discussed, he would come and find him when he was ready. Puffing out a long breath, he can hear the quiver within it, the first sign of his defences breaking down. Normally he’d shower, washing off the disappointment of another non-finish, but not today. Today he feels different, like if he washes the thick coating of luck that seems to surround him that it might all be a dream. Never before has a retirement made him feel more alive 

 

—

 

“Mark, nice soaking you got there” Steve laughed as Mark approached, the tang of champagne still dripping from his hair. 

 

“Yeah, the fucker got me” He shrugged, his mind still elsewhere. 

 

“Mark, Jesus that crash, are you alright? Have you seen him?” David grabbed onto his arm as they prepared to shoot the analysis segment of their coverage. He could see the distance in Mark’s face, they’d all had their own crashes over the years, but he couldn’t imagine how Mark, the husband, must feel to see it all unfold in front of him. He looked steely into the Australian’s eyes, give his arm a gentle reassuring squeeze.  

 

“No, not yet mate” Mark bit his lip, he was struggling to keep it together. In all the rush from the commentating, to the podium, David was the first to ask if he was ok. Not if Fernando was ok, but if he was ok. He gulped hard, feeling a faint taste of bile rising in his throat as Steve passed him another microphone.

 

“Wait, you’ve not seen him?” The Scottish twang of David’s accent rose in concern.

 

“No, I’ll erm, I’ll see him in a bit, I- I don’t really know where he is” Mark gulped harder, nodding along with his words, the rhythm to distract him from how he really felt. How all he wanted to do was run. 

 

“You sure?” His brow furrowed as Mark sucked a deep breath.

 

“Yeah, yeah mate, he’s ok, so I’ll see him in a bit” Mark composed himself. Saying the words out loud he felt a little better. The sooner he finish up here, the sooner he could cradle Fernando in his arms. 

 

“If you need to…”

 

“No DC, I’m fine mate” Mark said sternly, David and the team knew of his and Fernando’s wishes. Quietly they’d hoped that Mark’s relationship would get them unrivalled access to the two-time world champion. But knowing Mark as well as he did and an environment as widely public as the F1 paddock now was, he could understand why they’d taken the private approach. Head down, work to do, no distractions. 

 

Mark knew it would come up, of course it would. But away from the bubble of the commentary booth, as the adrenaline had wasted away. It hit him, like a brick wall, the way it rolled, the shards of carbon fibre mixed with harsh gravel flying through the air in a tornado of destruction. Fernando, his husband, in the eye of the storm. It could’ve been oh so different. 

 

—

 

“I’m ok, really Mama… yes the doctors say I am ok… Fabri gave me something yes… yes, I’ll tell Mark to take care of me… I don’t know, will wait a day or two, see what the doctors say” 

 

Fernando pushed his back against the wall behind the massage table, stretching his legs out he flinched as the cold ice pressed against his swollen knee. He wasn’t lying, he was ok, a little pain in his knee was nothing compared to what could have been. Reassuring his mother for the umpteenth time, Fernando rolled his neck pushing out a deep breath. He stared at the simple image on his lock screen, Mark’s hand clasped tightly around his own, his thumb pressed against his wedding ring. Fernando usually didn’t need the image of his husband emblazoned on his phone, he had the most precious photos stored away. But the black and white blurry image was so simple and so pure. Mark had switched his lock screen back in July, as a constant reminder that wherever they were in the world, Mark would be right beside him. He could vividly remember the moments that led to it, the shared uncertainty and pain they had felt towards losing Jules and Justin. The emotional conversations, long into the summer nights, as to whether it was really worth it any more. Today was just another reminder of how precious life was. 

 

\---

 

As Mark finally made his way through the paddock, he cursed at how far away McLaren’s base seemed to be. Their poor year meant they weren’t at the sharp end of the paddock. He pushed and bustled his way through the crowds, each step felt like a mile, his limbs just couldn’t move fast enough. Sure Fernando had been deemed well, but Mark could help but worry to what state he would find his husband in. Could they have missed something? Had he hit his head? Had he hurt his back? The fears tumbled around Mark’s mind, draining every last breath out of him, he needed to see Fernando, he needed to hold him, to protect him. That was his job, he’d promised it in his vows. He’d promised to protect Fernando and take care of him at all costs. He’d failed him, instead he’d finished his work duties and neglected his husband. The realisation of his selfish actions dawning, Mark stumbled into a nearby tree in a cold sweat. Splaying his hand across the bark he steadied himself, praying his legs wouldn’t give way, his head swimming with thoughts of what could have been. 

 

“Mark?” A hazy voice filtered through. 

 

“I know you’re the opposition, but a few words Mark?” Simon Lazenby called a foam microphone thrusting towards him. 

 

“Er no, I-” 

 

“Ah just a quick one, I know that must’ve been a horrific one to watch, how is Fernando?” 

 

Mark shook his head exhaustedly, his eyes darting. 

 

_ Sky. Ground. Sky. Ground. What must Fernando have felt. Did Fernando even feel anything? _

 

“I haven’t seen him” He breathed heavily, until his eyes finally focussed on a welcome sight walking towards him. 

 

“Andrea, where is he?” Andrea may not be Fernando’s race engineer anymore, but Mark knew he would be the first to ensure he was safe and well. 

 

“You have not seen him?” Andrea intensified his stare, clasping a hand on his shoulder. Noticing the awaiting media beside him, the Italian ushered Mark away. Not before offering a raised eyebrow towards the men. 

 

“No mate, I- fuck I fucked up, I should be with him” 

 

“Mark, calm down, is ok my friend, Fernando is fine. I see him just, he is safe and well” Andrea reassured. 

 

\---

 

Fernando could still feel the buzz rushing through his veins, Fabri had tried to get him to eat something but a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach was bubbling away, unnerving him. The steady breeze of the air-conditioning blew down, making his hairs stand on end. His dampened curls fluttering at the nape of his neck. Staring between the ice pack resting on his knee and the controller by the door, he settled for the blanket that was neatly folded at the foot of the massage table, wrapping it gingerly around his shoulders. He felt stupid sitting alone, there was a debrief happening somewhere that he’d been excused from. Andrea had assured him that his race engineer Mark would fill him in, but Fernando couldn’t help but feel useless. The engine was completely wrecked, the shell of the car was the only thing left standing. Up until that point they had been having a great race, the car felt poles apart from the previous year. They may have had a real chance to get some points, decent points. But his accident had also impeded Jenson’s race and the season had started much the same as the previous year. He was frustrated. An opportunity slipped through his fingers. Shuffling to the edge of the massage table, Fernando swung his legs freely. The coating of luck he’d been reluctant to wash off, now just felt like the harsh cloak of failure once more. 

 

Mark would usually use their signature knock when he arrived at the door of Fernando’s cool-down room. 

Not this time, he held his breath as he walked into the empty room, the sound of the shower humming in the background indicated Fernando’s whereabouts. 

 

Stepping into the bathroom his eyes taking the sight of his husband’s form in front of him. Water streaming over his perfect body, cascading over his dipped head, his hands pressed against the tiles, holding himself steady. 

 

“Nano?” He called, surprised at how his voice broke, catching Fernando’s attention, his eyes lit up.  

 

Mark immediately closed the distance between them, his hands desperate to hold him, to feel each and every inch of his body. Lacing his arms around the smaller man’s frame, he pressed his eyes tightly shut as his tears of relief evaporated into the hot steam that enveloped them. Fernando exhaled into Mark, allowing the Australian to bear his weight, he clasped his fingers tightly into the fabric of his wet shirt. Clinging on, he felt so helpless, so weak. He wasn’t weak, he couldn’t be weak. He wasn’t injured, he was completely fine. 

 

“Are you...” Mark whispered shakily, pressing a kiss to his matted curls. 

 

Fernando nodded tilting his head back he met the deep brown pools of his husband gazing back at him, tinged lightly with a faint shade of pink.

 

“Am fine” He smiled coyly. 

 

“Shit. I thought… when I…” Mark stumbled, the tears that had been on the brink, were flowing freely down his face. He captured the Spaniard’s face within his hands, brushing his hair with his thumb. Putting every ounce of agony and anxiety that had been coursing through his veins into a ferocious kiss. The feeling of Fernando pressed against him, the touch of his familiar lips and the knowledge that he had been so close to never feeling their warmth again overwhelming his entire being. 

 

“Mmrppkk” Fernando mumbled until Mark finally tore himself away.

 

“Shit sorry, are you ok? Are you hurt?” Mark stood back, fearful of hurting Fernando. 

 

“Am fine, honestly, just a little sore, nothing more” 

 

“You’re sure though”

 

“Si, the doctors they check me over and say I am completely fine. Will have a few bruises and my knee it hurts a little. Just need to rest” Fernando nodded, seeing the fear set in Mark’s eyes. He’d been there before not so long ago, Brazil, the waiting and the fear were all consuming. 

 

“Am sorry” Fernando’s head dipped. 

 

“Don’t be sorry mate, I’m just so glad I have you here, you’re with me, that’s all that matters” 

 

“I know, is just…”

 

“What? What’s wrong? Is it your leg, you were limping” Mark rushed. 

 

“No-no, stop worrying, am fine Mark. Just disappointed, I was actually enjoying myself” 

 

Mark huffed a laugh, of course Fernando would be thinking of the opportunity lost. Because he knew he would be the exact same. 

 

“Well, that’s a positive I guess” Mark nuzzled his nose. “Ahh Nano, I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner” 

 

“Is fine, you were busy, I know this” Fernando smiled sweetly. 

 

“Yeah but”

 

“No, I prefer to wait, is worth to have you to myself. Um, you are finished now yes?” Fernando eyed up the soaking wet clothes that clung to Mark’s toned body. “Are a bit wet to be on TV” He smirked. 

 

“Yeah, all yours. Whatever you need, I’m here” Mark fluttered his eyes and pressed a kiss to Fernando’s head, making a mental note to thank all who protected it. 

 

“Ok” Fernando smiled, trying to hold himself together. He was ok, he had Mark, everything was fine. 

 

“Here, let me” Mark reached for the shampoo, pouring it into his hands he felt Fernando relax as he began to massage the lathery soap into his hair. It was a surefire way to put the Spaniard at ease and Mark knew only too well, Fernando was holding back. He knew it would only be a matter of time before the adrenaline wore off and Fernando would realise the gravity of the day’s events. He just had to be there when it did. 

 

After removing the wet clothes and slipping into his casual clothes that were thankfully hidden at the bottom of Fernando’s race bag. Mark tenderly rubbed Fernando’s hair dry with a towel, both silently appreciating being in each other’s company, sharing all they needed to through a locked gaze. 

 

\---

 

The heavy purr of Mark breathing beside him usually relaxed him if he struggled with jet lag, or if he just simply couldn’t sleep. But lying in the hotel room that was so blandly familiar, he’d never felt so on edge. Every distant sound was elevated inside his head, his senses heightened to every drip of the bathroom tap or whistle of air-conditioning. The shrill of sirens out in the Melbourne night air that would usually go unnoticed, clanged around his skull. It was impossible to sleep, every part of his body ached. 

 

Fernando’s eyes finally flickered open, no position he could lie in would be comfortable, it was infuriating. He glared at the dim digits on the alarm clock, squinting as he worked out the hours since his last painkiller. After a post-race dinner with Mark’s family, it had passed midnight before they finally made their way to bed, before another half hour of convincing Mark that he was ‘fine’ and ‘just needed to rest’. With the clock reading 3am it had only been a little over two hours since his last dose, maybe the painkillers hadn’t kicked in yet, it sure as hell didn’t feel like it. Stretching to reach for his phone he considered texting Fabri, but he knew how little help that would be if he was asleep. He tentatively slid to the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb the sleeping Australian, the small trickle of drool signalling his deep sleep. Standing made no difference, except now there was the addition of pressure on his knee, he could feel the bruises forming across his body. Frustrated, he pushed out a sigh, audibly wincing at the sharp pain that crippled his chest. 

 

Mark startled awake, tuned to the sound of Fernando’s cry, his eyes searching through the darkness to the figure leaning his hands out to the mattress. 

 

“What’s up? You ok?” Mark croaked sleepily, an air of panic within it. 

 

“Am… Fine…” Fernando puffed slow and shortened breaths. 

 

“You don’t look fine” Mark scrambled his legs from the sheets, to close the distance to his husband. 

 

“I am… couldn’t… sleep” 

 

“Mate, look at me” Kneeling before him, Mark reached out to Fernando’s hunched shoulders giving them a comforting rub. “Look at me” 

 

Fernando’s eyes remained closed, unable to bare the look of panic that he knew would be etched across Mark’s face. Nor could he risk Mark seeing him on the brink of crumbling.  

 

“Nano, look at me, what’s wrong, tell me what’s wrong” He took his finger and tilted the Spaniard’s chin from where it hung between his outstretched arms. He could instantly see the determined look on his husband’s face, determined to push through the pain that was so obviously taking over his body. 

 

“Mark, please, go back to sleep”

 

“Bollocks mate, we’re getting you checked out” He laced his hand through Fernando’s hair in an attempt to relax him.

 

“No! Am fine, just moved too quickly, honestly” Fernando pouted, his eyes glimmering in the faint stream of light flickering through the window. 

 

“The doctors might have missed something though” Mark pulled himself closer to Fernando, his legs spread either side of the Spaniard’s haunched arms that rested on the bed. He couldn’t shake the fear that something was seriously wrong, he couldn’t just walk away like that completely unharmed. They’d both had their fair share of heavy shunts, fair share of concussion, it seemed like their nine lives were rapidly running out.

 

“Is just a little pain in the side, will be ok, I promise” Fernando huffed through the pain as it began to subside, straightening his stance.

 

Mark studied Fernando’s furrowed brow as it looked down upon him. The same furrowed brow that showed when Mark had tried to dissuade him from going for a run on Christmas morning in favour of staying in bed, the same furrowed brow that was determined to reach the bedroom light to change the bulb even after Mark had offered his height advantage. Fernando was stubborn, annoyingly so, but it was one of the many qualities he loved about him. 

 

“As long as you’re sure” Mark rested his hands on Fernando’s hips, rubbing his thumbs in a circular motion along Fernando’s exposed torso. Now wasn’t the time to push, they had an appointment at the hospital in the morning. 

 

Fernando nodded, burying his head in Mark’s messy tufts of hair, breathing in the comforting scent. 

 

“Anything I can do?” Mark shrugged, feeling helpless. 

 

“I just can’t get comfortable” he whispered through a gentle kiss.

 

“We can’t be having that” Mark raised a sly smile, he knew exactly what Fernando needed. “Come on, let’s get you back in bed” 

 

Mark bit his lip as Fernando gingerly settled into the starch sheets, it was clear how he was struggling, he didn’t need Mark to further point it out. He wished he could swap the harshness of the hotel sheets for the sanctuary of their own bed, the sound of Simba and Shadow protectively sleeping at the doorway, the soft pillowy duvet that they spent many a day getting lost in. Instead he had the hum of the Melbourne night and a limited amount of pillows. 

 

Fernando shifted himself closer to Mark, the Australian’s warm touch offering all the comfort he needed as he softly tangled his fingers through Fernando’s hair. Safely nestled in the nook of Mark’s arm, Fernando allowed a smile to spread across his face, which was promptly met with Mark’s lips. 

 

“Better?” Mark enquired, stroking a stray curl from his forehead. 

 

“Mmm” Fernando hummed softly in appreciation, splaying his fingers over Mark’s chest allowing each fingertip to bathe in the warmth that radiated off him. Maybe he just needed Mark, to feel him close, to make him feel alive. He could just stay here, lying with his husband, that would be all the drugs he needed. Mark felt Fernando cling to him a little tighter than usual, his warm breaths trickling across his skin taking a slight hitched rhythm once in a while. 

 

“I’m right here, I got you” He tightened his hold around Fernando’s head, softly brushing his hair. He knew Fernando’s guard may crumble, but for now he was holding himself together. He watched his husband’s eyelashes flicker in the dim light, each precious one of them still so perfectly framing his hypnotic hazel eyes, the eyes he could recall from memory. His nose still puffing air at a steady pace, his lips still pursed, gently parting to allow his tongue to escape. The rough trim of his beard bristling against his chest that he usually teased about, suddenly didn’t matter so much anymore. He was in his arms, slotting close to him like a perfect piece of a jigsaw puzzle. Mark grit his teeth to try to hold back the sob of relief that threatened to air. 

 

“Te amo” Fernando whispered, taking one finger he tenderly lay gentle strokes onto Mark’s chest, a ‘1’ and a ‘4’. His race number, the same as his karting number, that was what people usually saw. It was the number that Mark had made his one and only tattoo, nestled on his ring finger beneath the wedding band. It was coincidentally the year they finally had decided to marry. They were all reasons why the number was special to Mark and to him. But the number didn’t matter, it was what it represented, what the equation of that number was.

 

**8** letters,  **3** words,  **2** people,  **1** meaning. I love you. 

 

—

 

They’d spent the morning at the hospital, an afternoon taking a leisurely stroll down by the harbour, the evening bidding farewell to Mark’s family. Before they knew it, they were in the first class Emirates lounge. It wasn’t an expense that McLaren would foot the bill for, but it was something Mark felt inclined to do. He just needed to take his husband home as quickly and as comfortably as possible. 

 

Making their way through the airport, Mark never allowed himself to drift too far away from his husband, resting his hand on the small of his back or brushing his fingers as they waited in line at security. Although thankful that Fernando’s stubbornness had subsided enough to allow him to carry all their bags, he was grateful when they finally made it to the sanctuary of the lounge to dump them on the nearest chair. 

 

“You want anything to drink bud?” Mark pressed lips to his forehead, as the Spaniard settled into the plush sofa in a secluded corner of the lounge. 

 

“Just a water to take these” Fernando smiled, shaking the bottle of painkillers from his pocket. Mark nodded walking away to the bar, resisting the urge to prod at how Fernando was feeling. The doctor had advised they were to help him settle on the flight, if it helped that was all that mattered, it wasn’t fair to Fernando to keep fretting. 

 

“A bottle of water and a flat white please mate” He smiled at the server, opting for a coffee, determined to be awake should Fernando need him. 

 

“Of course, I’ll bring it right over” 

 

“Sure, we’re just over there in the corner” Mark excused himself and wandered across to the bathroom, hesitating slightly, he looked back, satisfied that Fernando was happily scrolling through his phone. As each hour passed, he was sure Fernando may break down, but he’d not so much as had a little wobble. Perhaps he was in actual fact, as fine as he kept pointing out, maybe the realisation of his narrow escape may never fully dawn on him. Mark wasn’t sure which was worse. Splashing his face with water before patting it gently with a paper towel, he feigned a smile at his reflection. He usually hated leaving Oz, leaving the comfort of his home country, this time was different, deep down he just wanted to forget this weekend had ever happened. 

 

“Am famous!” Fernando exclaimed with a cheeky grin as Mark finally sat down, poking his head up from behind the newspaper. 

 

**_LUCKIEST MAN ALIVE_ **

**_Alonso cheats death at 200 KM/H_ **

 

Mark’s eyes widened on being confronted with the terrifying image emblazoned on the front page, so brashly used to sell papers, with no regard for the person within it. 

 

“Yeah mate… Jesus, that’s some photo” Mark huffed a laugh, sipping from his coffee. 

 

“Luckiest man alive, I guess they’re referring to me” Fernando giggled lightly, studying the photo closely. It was quite a statement, but it was true, he was extremely lucky and he’d never felt more alive. “Maybe should buy a lottery ticket?” He amused himself. 

 

“Mmm” Mark nodded noncommittally, concentrating on his coffee. 

 

“Sorry” Fernando pouted at the way Mark swirled his coffee round his cup. 

 

“Hmm?” Mark’s attention undivided. 

 

“Am sorry” 

 

“What you sorry for?”

 

“It… must have been hard… for you. I’m not being fair” Fernando blinked, unsure of what to say, he knew how difficult it was in Brazil. Feeling like his world was falling apart, like with one fail blow, his life was over. 

 

“Don’t be daft, like I said, I’ve got you here in one piece haven’t I” Mark reached out and stroked the back of Fernando’s hand. “That’s all that matters” He noticed the uneasy smile, internally rolling his eyes that Fernando should know better than to try and fool him with fake smiles. 

 

“Just as long as you keep all four wheels on the black stuff from now on, not sure my old ticker can handle that again” Mark winked in an attempt to raise a real smile from his husband. 

 

“Are not old” Fernando smirked, glancing to the warm, familiar hand, he moved to lace his fingers with his own. 

 

“My grey hairs tell another story, mate” 

 

“Ah shhhh, I love them” Fernando laughed, scrunching his nose. “Te ves guapo y distinguido”

 

“Well that’s good, seen as you’re responsible for half of them” Mark stood up and ruffled Fernando’s hair playfully, dipping in for a kiss. 

 

“Do not know what you’re talking about” Fernando rolled his eyes, hiding his face behind the offending image on the front page once more, with a cheeky grin. 

 

“Right, photo mate, need evidence as to why I’m bald by the age of 40…” 

 

“One to show the grandkids” Mark commented flippantly as he studied the photo. Fernando couldn’t help but feel a bubble of warmth spread inside him, his eyes widening at Mark. Grandkids? Mark was thinking of kids? Sure Fernando had filled the nights alone in hotel rooms with thoughts of what his life with Mark could be, from scouring the Australian property market, to the secret folder of adoption websites he had bookmarked. But it wasn’t something they’d ever discussed, more so just a daydream of Fernando’s in the long lonely nights. But as time wore on, to be a father was something he craved more and more. He gulped back the emotion in his throat. Maybe it was another of Mark’s phrases that Fernando didn’t quite understand, either way an airport lounge wasn’t the place to bring up such a topic. 

 

Half an hour after take off, the tablets had finally began to kick in, safely settled into the flatbed, Fernando studied his husband’s mannerisms, the way he scratched his stubble, the way he nodded as he appreciated his coffee. They were small little details that other people wouldn’t notice, but to Fernando they were comforting. He allowed his mind to wander, gently allowing his eyes to drop into dreams of their future. 


	2. We all fall down

Fernando tentatively slipped from his seat and made his way through to the small airplane bathroom.

“Am just going…” His teeth gritted, he forced a smile at the air hostess, gulping as the plane jolted slightly through a pocket of turbulence. He awkwardly forced himself through the tiny folding door and yanked the lock, resting his head against the wall in exhaustion. It was the 5th time he’d been to the bathroom since they boarded the second leg of their journey, for sure Mark was bound to get suspicious. His thoughts were quickly confirmed with a short knock and a deep Aussie whisper behind the closed door.

 

“Sir, there is another toilet towards the back of the cabin” The air hostess interrupted.

 

“I know, I just need to…” Mark tried, with another knock to the door.

 

“Sir, I’ll let you know when this one is free” She raised her tone a little.

 

“Look, I don’t need the toilet, just five minutes and no funny business, I promise”

 

Hearing muffled sounds on the other side of the door, Fernando buoyed himself a deep breath, wincing at the pain that shot across his chest before he pulled the lock open with a grimaced smile. A smile that Mark could see right through.

 

“Mate, please” Mark’s furrowed brow and clenched teeth stung a little, Fernando knew that look, the pained expression of concern that he’d worn himself when the roles were reversed. He knew Mark was right, he knew something was wrong, but he just needed to get home with a calm and steady head. Taking each step as it came, talking himself through the pain.

 

“Am ok” Fernando tried as Mark pulled the folding door behind him.

 

“Don’t fucking lie” Mark gritted, a heat building up his neck, he was getting ridiculous.

 

“Not lying, yes it hurts but I’m dealing with it”

 

“By coming to the pokey little bathroom every five minutes? Or are you just trying to hide it from me? You’re clearly in pain with God only knows what, we’re thousands of miles up in the air and you’re shrugging it off like you’ve got a fucking paper cut” Mark exasperated, sharply running his hand through his hair.

 

“Am not" He scowled, pressing his fingernails deeper into his palm, in an attempt to pull the pain away from his chest.

 

“For fucks sake Fernando” Mark snapped.

 

“Do not shout at me”

 

“Well talking hasn’t got me anywhere mate, because you won’t be fucking honest with me”

 

“Don’t shout…” Fernando’s voice faltered, his breath short and laboured. “Please” he whispered with a strain.

 

Mark’s anger subsided as he saw his husband begin to break before him, he knew it may come, an airline bathroom cubicle wasn’t the most ideal place. Taking his hand, he laced around the back of the Spaniard’s head and closed the few inches between them to pull him to his chest. With a soft rhythm he allowed his thumb to caress the nape of Fernando’s neck in hope that it would encourage him to relax into his body, but it never came. The tension in his husband’s body was as sharp as a knife, which only did more to pierce Mark’s heart.

 

“It’s ok, I’ve got you” Mark whispered gently, using his spare hand to seek out Fernando’s own, hoping the reassurance of a hand squeeze would help. Their hand squeezes had long been their connection in the paddock, they were quick and often undetected by prying eyes, a friendly squeeze that meant so much more. Mark’s fingers met a clenched fist, that even with forceful teasing, never relaxed.

 

“Look, I’m sorry I shouted, but please don’t keep me out”

 

“I just want to go home” A small voice aired, so downtrodden and lost.

 

“We will, but you have to be honest with me” He pulled away to look at Fernando’s face, grasping the tightly clenched fist. “Will you stop? Please!” He pleaded as he shook the fist gently, Fernando relented his fingernails cautiously releasing from his palm.

 

“Mate, what’s going on?” Mark traced the red, claw marks that indented his husband’s skin, each drawing a small hint of blood. “What are you doing?”

 

“Um, I” Fernando looked down, the pain he felt had been nothing to the pain that wracked through his body. He was shocked at how he’d managed to break his skin, yet hadn’t hurt. He knew Mark was right, there was something wrong, but he couldn’t give into the fear.

 

“My chest, it hurts a little, to breathe, is difficult” He refused to look Mark in the eye.

 

“Shit” The expletive escaped without Mark even realising. “How difficult?” He corrected, grateful that Fernando wasn’t close to his chest to feel his heart beating double-speed.

 

“I don’t know. Is manageable, do not need to panic. But I think maybe something is not right”

 

“Mm you think!?” Mark spat sarcastically, to be met with a scowl from the Spaniard before he turned his head away. “Ok, I’m sorry, look let’s sit down, get you comfor— well as comfortable as possible and we’ll think about it when we land, yeah? We’ve only got a few hours to go, so see if you can get some sleep or something?” Mark knew there was no way he’d be getting any shut-eye himself, he’d be watching Fernando’s chest rise and fall like a hawk, but if Fernando could at least rest through the pain, it was something.

 

“Si” Fernando nodded compliantly, with Mark’s hand tightly wrapped around his, they tentatively made their way back to their seats. Mark’s heart leapt with each flinch Fernando made, trying his hardest to fight the overwhelming feeling that he’d failed to keep him safe.

 

—

 

Sat alone in the hospital waiting room, surrounded by a language he’d still failed to grasp, Mark puffed a deep sigh. Waiting for the dialling tone to connect, as anxiety ripped through him. The emergency department had fast tracked Fernando right through to be seen mere moments after they arrived, which whilst it was relieving he was being treated, it had done no good for his fears.

 

“Hola” The call connected.

 

“Hola Ana, es Mark” He pressed his eyes shut, he knew she’d sense something as soon as he called.

 

“Mark, qué? Qué está mal? Where are you?” Her voice rushed.

 

“It’s Fernando, we’re in the hospital, he’s just getting checked out”

 

“Is he ok? Which hospital?” He could hear the anxiety shared in her tone.

 

“Um Oviedo, we just got home”

 

“Is Fernando ok? What is wrong?”

 

“I don’t know” Mark’s voice cracked. “He’s having tests done, but I don’t understand”

 

“Is ok, we are coming mi hijo” She comforted.

 

As he waited, each minute felt like it stretched into hours, it hadn’t been long since he sat in another Spanish hospital with his husband being treated in the next room. It was all too familiar. Except this time he could’ve done more, how much damage had been done between Sunday’s race and now, he wasn’t even sure how much time had passed, every single moment blurred into one another. He’d failed in his promise to keep his husband safe, something he’d promised to his family and to Fernando himself. He glanced around the waiting room, families providing each other with a soothing touch, a father wiping his young daughter’s tears away, an elderly gentleman rubbing his wife’s back as they made their way to be treated. They were all providing the comfort their loved ones needed in that moment, whilst he sat alone, clueless to the well-being of his own. Why hadn’t they come to find him? Why was he the only one sat alone? What did that mean? He trained his eyes back to the form in front of him, a piece of paper asking him to detail each and every aspect of Fernando’s life - at least that’s what he assumed it was asking, but the language barrier had raised it’s ugly head once more.

 

Pushing through the paralysing fear, he forced himself to complete the boxes he understood.

 

_His name_

Fernando Webber-Alonso

\- Something he wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to, nor would he ever stop feeling proud at the man who’d taken his name.

 

_His address_

Casa de Rojo, Oviedo, Asturias

\- A house that held so many memories between them.

 

_His birthday_

29/07/1980

\- Coincidentally his birthday was the day that they had taken their relationship further.

 

_Pariente más cercano - Next of Kin_

Hesitating at the box he remembered from the year earlier, it was the box that he was freely able to list himself in, after so many years of having to hide their relationship. He put the pen to paper, scrawling his own name in indelible black ink, he was his next of kin and he should’ve protected him.

 

“Mark?” Ana’s familiar voice called across the waiting room, a wave of relief washed over him cooling the nervous heat that had formed on his brow.

 

“I’m sorry, I am, I don’t know what’s going on” Mark croaked as her small frame grasped around his own, he looked exhausted and emotionally drained.

 

“Is ok mi hijo, what happened?” She ushered him back to a seat, holding tightly onto his hand.

 

“We were on the flight back home and he was struggling for breath, he said it was like a stabbing pain. I don’t know what it is or where he is, or what’s happening, I need to fill out this form and I don’t know…” Mark felt himself crumbling, he needed to pull himself together. “I don’t know the answers”

 

“Mark! Is ok, I find out what is happening, wait here” José took control, his eyes piercing Mark’s in a way that always made him feel at ease, he reminded so much of his husband. He just had to remain calm and reassure Fernando’s mother, take everything one step at a time and not let his head run wild. He could do that, couldn’t he? Sinking deep breaths, Mark nodded to himself and to José who was passively rubbing his wife’s back in a similar way he had done to Fernando’s as they’d made their way into the hospital.

 

“Are you Mr Webber?” After a little while longer a nurse approached, that generic comforting smile that all medical staff had stitched onto their face that made them impossible to read, her accent distinctly English.

 

“Yeah, that’s me! Fernando, my husband, is he ok?”

 

“Would you come with me please?”

 

“Is he ok though?” Mark sat on the edge of his seat, unsure if his unsteady legs would carry his own weight.

 

“I will explain on the way… somewhere more private” She acknowledged the prying eyes around the room, whilst Mark was oblivious to anything but the wellbeing of his husband, the crowded waiting room had most definitely recognised the Australian and we’re more than eager to learn of what was happening to his husband.

 

“This is his family, please just tell us” He pleaded an uncharacteristically high pitched crack in his voice.

 

“We have a private waiting room, you can come and wait there” She urged calmly. “All of you”

 

Having led Mark together with who she guessed were Fernando’s parents, though to the small room that doubled up as a staff room, she could sense the tension in Mark’s breathing and how he was desperately fighting against the fear that something was seriously wrong with his husband. She chose her words carefully as always, precise and regimented.

 

“Fernando is in stable condition, but in his accident he suffered a broken rib which has also attributed to a pneumothorax in his right lung-“

 

“His lung?” Mark cried with panic invading his face, his body feeling like he’d been at the sharp end of a shotgun.

 

“¡Dios mío!” Ana gasped.

 

“Yes, it is more commonly known as a collapsed lung”

 

“Collapsed?” Mark’s voice faded to a whisper.

 

“It is where when air builds up between the outside of the lung and the inside of the chest wall, causing it to become detached and unable to full inflate. Fernando’s is what is known as a traumatic pneumothorax in which his broken rib has punctured the lining of the lung itself”

 

“Shit! What the… how did they fucking miss that?” The panic subsided to anger, how could the doctors have missed that? Multiple doctors, those at the track and before their flight all had chance to catch it, but they’d somehow managed to completely overlook it.

 

“It is not immediately apparent Mr Webber, a traumatic pneumothorax can occur a little while after the injury”

 

“Is Fernando ok?” Ana enquired from beside him, her small voice making him feel even worse. Whilst he felt completely at home with Fernando’s family, there was always a irrational part of him that felt that he must prove his worth to be Fernando’s husband.

 

“Yes, Fernando is ok, we had to perform a small procedure to remove some of the fluid build up in his lung and it should repair itself in time. Whilst it is serious, it is not life threatening”

 

“Can I see him?” Mark’s bravado falling by the wayside, his forehead creased in concern, he needed to be by his side.  

 

“Of course, then I will answer any further questions you have”  

 

“Thank you, really thank you” Mark sighed.

 

“Your father-in-law explained you would need an English speaker” She smiled and nodded towards José, the man who’d remained silent, but had stalwartly held his wife’s hand as they took in the news.

 

“Thanks” Mark’s lip wobbled as he turned to his father-in-law, the simple act threatening the tear to his eye. He knew it would possibly had meant that he himself wasn’t entirely aware of how his own son was doing, yet he’d put Mark’s needs ahead of his own, a quality he was so grateful to have been inherited by his husband.

 

——

 

Fernando huffed uncomfortably at the scratchy sheets, all he wanted was to be home and to get some sleep, he hadn’t had any quality sleep in days and he was utterly exhausted. The very last place he wanted to be was in a hospital room encased in harsh sheets, wearing nothing but a hospital gown. He wanted to be curled into Mark’s body, with the steady rhythm of the Australian’s breathing sending him off to sleep like a comforting lullaby.

 

“Nano?” Mark croaked, his face drained and worn in the doorway. “Nano, I’m so sorry” He moved towards the bed, desperate to hold his husband but also terrified to make it worse. He felt entirely selfish to be here without Ana and José, but José had kindly offered to go and get coffee whilst Mark had 5 minutes alone with him.

 

“Why are you sorry?” The wonky smile on Fernando’s face confirming he was indeed ok.

 

“I should’ve done more, made sure you were ok, I promised that I’d keep you safe”

 

“Mark, am fine, are being stupid, cannot protect me in the car, you know this”

 

“Yeah but-“

 

“No apologies… please” The Spaniard sighed shakily, his lip pouting slightly.

 

“Ok, just I- thought I’d lost—“ Mark refrained from finishing the sentence, but his unspoken words lay thick in the air.

 

“Mark please” Fernando pleaded.

 

“How are you feeling?” He corrected nervously, running his hand through Fernando’s hair from where he stood beside the hospital bed.

 

“Am fine, just a little sore… and tired” It was useless trying to hide anything from Mark, he’d always see straight through his hardened face.

 

“Can you… breathe?”

 

“I could breathe anyway” Fernando rolled his eyes stubbornly.

 

“You know what I mean” Mark scowled intently, he’d had enough of Fernando pretending to be fine, but before he had chance to push him, the nurse returned with the Doctor alongside her.

 

As the Doctor flicked the x-rays onto the lightbox, Mark felt Fernando’s hand tighten around his own, looking down he saw a flicker of fear in the younger man’s eyes as though holding onto Mark was the only thing getting him through. Returning the gesture, Mark gave an reassuring squeeze, clearly Fernando just needed him to be there he didn’t need any tension or circumstance.

 

“You can see here the pneumothorax, luckily we caught it at the right time and was not more serious.” The Doctor pointed at the mysterious splodges on the X-ray, both men trying to understand the image before them.

 

“What’s the verdict Doc?” Mark feigned a smile.

 

“We have removed the fluid and the lung has began to inflate and will repair itself in next few days, but your broken rib will still be quite painful and take a little longer to heal. It can take a few weeks to a few months heal fully. I have prescribed a few painkillers, you will need to take it easy over the next few days”

 

“No training then mate” Mark raised an eyebrow at his husband.

 

“No, just resting and relaxing, any strain could cause further injury or the pneumothorax to occur again. If you come back in a few days to see how you are healing and we will go from there” The Doctor confirmed.

 

“Is anything I can do to help it heal?” Fernando pouted, the last thing he needed was to be reserved for bedrest, that would do wonders for the rumours of his motivation and potential retirement. “Have another race in two weeks time”

 

“Fer, you are not getting in that car unless the Doc says you’re 100% fit” Mark cut sternly.

 

“Can discuss more methods and options to help the healing process when you return in a few days” The Doctor attempted to ease the tension. “For now it’s important to just rest, then we can reassess your progress. I’m sure your husband will take good care of you, you can enjoy not having to lift a finger”

 

“Easier said than done” Mark huffed a laugh, both of them were admittedly the worst patients, from his own crash in Brazil to Fernando’s in Barcelona, he knew he was in for a rough ride dealing with a frustrated Fernando who would be desperate to get back to his training regime.

 

“When should I come back?” Fernando pressed.

 

“I give you this prescription then come back on Wednesday morning and we see how you are” The Doctor smiled politely handing the slip of paper to him. “If anything feels strange, do not hesitate to come back earlier”

 

“We will do, thanks Doc” Mark promptly snatched the paper from Fernando’s limp grasp and inspected the names of the medication, although he wasn’t entirely familiar with them, he wanted to be sure that they were doing all they could for his husband. “Is this everything?”

 

“Si, two pills, three times daily, the bottom ones are sleeping pills to help with any uncomfort, so must take those with food before bedtime. There is no driving on this medication, so I’m afraid you will have to be chauffeur Mr Webber.”

 

“No problem, he won’t be going anywhere” Mark reassured.  

 

—

 

Finally discharged from the hospital, after having reassured his Mama and Papa he really was ok and he would take it easy, they had made it home. Home had never been a place that held much significance to him, travelling the world meant that he rarely spent any time in the place he defined as ‘home’. But now, home was the place he shared with his husband, the place that had Mark’s “old faithful” scruffy trainers by the door, a doormat with a collection of motorbike or trail running magazines addressed to ‘Mr M Webber-Alonso’ to welcome him. It was the place they returned to when their careers had parted them for weeks at a time. With Mark collecting their luggage from the car, Fernando tentatively relaxed into the plush, soft haven of their sofa, each movement of his body felt like sharp pins were pricking his skin. The hazy light of day hinted that it was morning, but his mind and body lacked any grasp of time, he just wanted to curl up with Mark and sleep.

 

“You hungry?” Mark eventually walked up behind the sofa, dipping down to press a kiss to Fernando’s collarbone, a gesture that caused the Spaniard to hum in appreciation. It was so simple, so familiar and made him feel completely at home.

 

“A little, mostly tired” Fernando affectionately leaned his neck towards Mark, the Australian’s hands travelling down his arms before crossing his body to tenderly embrace him. The warm hold giving just the right amount of space as not to cause pain but enough to reassure him that he was safe.

 

“Mmm me too matey, how about I fix us some toast and then we head to bed?” If there was one lesson his mother had taught him, it was that hot buttery toast was the cure for any problem.

 

“M’ok” Fernando complied softly as Mark nuzzled into his cheek.

 

Propping himself up with outstretched arms against the kitchen counter, Mark sighed heavily, no matter what the Doctors, Ana, Jose or even Fernando said, he still felt responsible, that he should have known something was seriously wrong. Biting  his lip to stem the exhausted outpour of emotion he felt at finally having Fernando back home, he resolved to accept his failings and care for his husband as best he could. He lined up the bottles containing pills of varying shapes and sizes, scribbling the directions down on one of Fernando’s many notepads that were littered around their modest Spanish home. Happy with his work, he attached the list to the fridge, smiling at the dog-eared sentimental post-it that sat alongside it, just one of the simple little messages that they left for each other to find whenever they were apart.

 

“Do you want to give your sleeping tablets a go?” After delivering Fernando’s plate with a kiss, Mark eventually wandered back into the living room with his own portion of toast, but as Fernando came into view it became clear his efforts had been in vain.

 

“Ah, guess not” He smiled warmly at the sight of Fernando sleepily curled into the large plush cushions, a half eaten slice of toast still in hand, resting against his cheek. He shook his head at how childlike Fernando looked, softly purring through parted lips, his face peaceful and expressionless. Not wanting to disturb him Mark took to the armchair that was only ever used when they had company, or that one afternoon delight they’d enjoyed after a heated game of tennis, even at the mere memory, he could almost taste the salty beads of sweat perspiring from his husband’s body as he sat. Smirking to himself he munched on his toast, amused at how the thoughts swirling in his head probably wasn’t what his mother had in mind when she had taught him the hot buttery toast theory.

 

Mark took the opportunity to pile their clothes into the washing machine and send a quick text to Fernando’s parents to thank them for looking after the dogs for one extra day until they got completely settled, before he dared to disturb the sleeping Spaniard. Gingerly perching on the edge of the sofa he stroked the familiar snoozing face, twisting his finger around the floppy curls that fell around his face. There wasn’t a scratch on him, no evidence of the incident or indication of how close Mark had come to losing him. He didn’t want to think of a world that didn’t have Fernando in it.

 

“God Nano, I love you so much it scares me” Mark whispered honestly, knowing that Fernando was unable to hear.

 

“Wakey wakey matey” He ran his thumb across Fernando’s cheek, grazing the tip of his nose with his own.

 

“Come on, let’s get you to bed” Casting the discarded toast aside, he waited for movement.

 

“Hmph” The Spaniard stirred slightly, but continued his regimented breathing, a reassuring sound that filled Mark’s heart.

 

“Alright, if I break my back, I’m blaming you” He chuckled lightly, looping Fernando’s floppy arm around his neck, he cautiously slid his arms under him and lifted him into his hold. With Fernando’s head lolling into Mark’s shoulder with a happy hum, Mark scaled the stairs buoyed by the feeling that for once, he had done something right by his husband.

 

—-

 

Much to Mark's surprise, Fernando was acting the perfect patient, they filled the day with movies and boxsets curled up on the sofa, with the dogs protectively lying at their feet. He allowed Mark to dote on him hand and foot, without so much as a grumble, fetching cups of coffee along with his medication, that was always met by a kiss charged with gratitude. Even though Mark couldn’t help the instinctive panic whenever Fernando gasped in pain, he tried his best to hide it.

 

Fernando secretly peeked around the bathroom door, watching Mark swirling a concoction of sensual liquids into the warm water as he ran a bath, ensuring that the temperature was just right and that all the towels were close by. He adored watching Mark in his protective mode, his attentive and caring nature was just one of the many things he loved about him, underneath that hard ‘Aussie Grit’ exterior lay a gooey centre, that didn’t take too much to break through. Everyone loved Mark, he was straight talking but loveable, but no-one really got to see him the way Fernando did, something he felt truly blessed to be privileged with.

 

“Are going to join me?” Fernando enquired with a smirk.

 

“Not in that way I’m not mate” Mark raised an eyebrow, casually pressing a kiss to Fernando’s forehead as he passed him in the doorway.

 

“Will make me feel much better” Fernando pouted.

 

“No can do, just a nice relaxing bath this time” Mark called back as he collected large fluffy dressing gowns. “Agh I’ve used this muscle relaxing goop, it smells like a bloody breath mint, what is in this stuff?”  He scoffed with a forced cough.

 

“Eucalyptus” Fernando smiled, inspecting the bottle. “Just like Koala”

 

“Should’ve known” Mark shrugged, smiling to himself.

 

“Is my Koala joining me?” The Spaniard’s eyelashes fluttered, his lips teasing into an innocent smile that had just a hint of mischief to it. “Will relax more with you with me”

 

“I suppose I can’t argue that then can I” Mark puffed a breath in his signature way, there was nowhere else he would rather be. “Just relaxing, save the _good_ baths for when you’re 100%”

 

Allowing Mark to rid him of his clothes felt so much different than their usual nature, his hands cautiously pulling at the fabric as though it were made of delicate lace, taking his time to slip it over Fernando’s hot skin. He knew Mark was only trying to help, but he felt so small and childlike. Mark studied the forlorn look on his husband’s face, pausing to kiss away to small frown that graced his lips after tentatively ridding him of his t-shirt. Fernando was fiercely independent and strong willed, he knew how he must feel, being taken care of in such a way that felt foreign to the usual fevered tearing of clothes. Inspecting the patchwork of colours that had formed across Fernando’s chest and shoulders from the sheer force of the seatbelts, Mark lowered to his knees, taking his time to lay tender kisses to the bruised skin and fresh steri-strip covered scars. Fernando instantly raised a smile at the way Mark knew how to soothe him, it was instinctive and heartfelt.

 

As the pair relaxed into the bath, with Fernando perfectly moulded to his chest, Mark padded his thumbs along the harsh evidence of Fernando’s accident, the Australian revelled in having his husband safely in his hold. Humming a sweet Spanish tune, Fernando allowed the warmth of the water to ease the tension in his body, the music taking him back to his childhood.

 

“What’s that?” Mark whispered.

 

“Is a lullaby” Fernando blushed.

 

“Are you falling asleep on me?”

 

“No, I just—“

 

“Ach if you’re comfortable mate, be my guest” Mark pressed a kiss to the younger man’s earlobe.

 

“It relaxes me, my mama used to sing it to me”

 

“It’s cute” Mark’s heart swelled at how adorable Fernando was. “You’ll have to teach me”

 

“Why?” Fernando tensed, turning his neck to look at his husband. Why would he need to know a Spanish lullaby? First the comment in the airport, now this… his small little pipe dream actually felt more real than ever.

 

“So I can sing it to you, ya dummy, it’s not like we have any kids to sing it to.”

 

“Oh” Fernando retreated in on himself, stung from the edge of Mark’s words, he sucked his lip between his teeth. He should’ve known, Mark had always said he never wanted children, they’d spoke about it in the years before they became an item. He was stupid to think that he’d ever change his mind in that instance. It was a stupid daydream that he needed to quash, he was happy enough with just Mark and their dogs… wasn’t he? Those spare bedrooms that were only occasionally occupied by family members could be filled with anything he liked, he could be frivolous, maybe a cinema room or a games room? Life was short, he had more than enough money to do whatever he liked, so he should just do it.

 

“We should redecorate, make the bedrooms into a games room?” He announced forcefully, pushing out the building emotion.

 

“Erm, ok, sure whatever you want” Mark raised his eyebrows, slightly taken aback by Fernando’s outburst. “But what on earth made you think of that?”

 

“We have this big empty house, is so many rooms, we should fill them, why are they empty? Why wouldn’t we fill them?”

 

“Sureee, I suppose, we’re not really here too often, so I never really thought about it” Mark scratched his jaw awkwardly. “We can look into it mate”

 

“No we do it now” Fernando demanded, sloshing the water with vigour as he turned to face his husband.

 

“Now? What are you on about?”

 

“We do it now, why would we wait?”

 

“Because we’re stark bollock naked, in a bath that is supposed to be relaxing, that’s why” Mark puffed a breath with a hint of a laugh.

 

“Cannot relax, have time now before we fly to Bahrain…” He tailed off, heaving himself from the warm water.

 

“Woah-woah, where are you going? Come on, sit back down mate, we’ll sort it out, but come on” Mark beckoned. “You’re not driving anywhere or hauling furniture around, so you might as well sit”

 

“Don’t need to, can order online. I need to measure… to see what we can do…” Fernando tried to ignore the pain that pulled in his chest.

 

Before Mark had chance to react, Fernando was out of the bath wrapped in the taller man’s bathrobe, storming from the room with a trail of soapy water still dripping from his body. Looking at the space when his husband had been peacefully lying mere seconds earlier, Mark scowled utterly perplexed by what had just occurred. Hearing Fernando muttering away to himself in Spanish in next room, he took his time to extract himself from the water and towel off. He knew it would only be a matter of time before his husband became restless, perhaps this was just his way of keeping busy. Grabbing his tracksuit bottoms and an old t-shirt, he eventually went in search of Fernando.

 

“Careful!” Mark forced, crossing the room toward the Spaniard who was balancing on his tiptoes.

 

“Can help?” Fernando furrowed his brow as he tried to stretch with a tape measure.

 

“Where did you earth this from?” Mark gestured.

 

‘Are you going to help or not?” Relenting to Fernando’s clear frustration, Mark held the tape measure to the wall as indicated by his husband, it was much easier than entering an argument that he was never going to win.

 

“I don’t know why we bothered buying you a bathrobe if you’re gonna steal mine every time” He raised an eyebrow towards the Spaniard who was scribbling away measurements in his notebook.

 

“I picked it by mistake” A pout forming on Fernando’s lips. “and yours is comfier” He admitted stubbornly, not removing his eyes from his notebook.

 

“Right, well whilst you plan our spontaneous renovations, I’m gonna grab a coffee, you want one?” With the Spaniard shaking his head, Mark shrugged and retreated down to the kitchen. Over the years, they’d both learned how to deal with one another’s stubborn tendencies, often Mark found it easier to leave Fernando to play it out before he made his efforts to bring him round to his own way of thinking. It was a tried and tested method, that unbeknownst to Fernando, usually worked.

Sitting down at the breakfast bar in their marble topped kitchen, Mark knew he should probably use the time to go over some of the run plan for his pre-season test, but the truth was he didn’t really want to think about leaving Fernando. He’d reassured the team that he’d be there, but as loyal as ever, Timo and Brendon had agreed should he need to stay behind they’d rattle on without him. His flight was booked for early Thursday morning, leaving him with more time at home and just enough time to get to the track. Whilst it was entirely tempting to take them up on the offer, he knew he needed to be there, but intending to leave and actually doing it were two entirely different things. How easily could he get back should Fernando need him?

 

Musing his options, he promptly collected Fernando’s laptop from where it lay on the sofa, he pulled it open and began typing ‘private jet hire’ in the address bar with a renewed sense of determination. As he did so, his fingers hesitated as his eyes caught the browsing history, it didn’t take much translation for him to understand what that meant.

 

‘Agencias privadas de adopción’

 

**_Adopción?_ **

 

Was his sister-in-law looking to have more children? He knew Fernando had helped her fund their IVF treatments to conceive his niece. Perhaps they were looking to adopt this time?

 

Shaking his head in dismissal, he continued his search...


	3. Hard to find a way

He didn’t hear him scaling the stairs, he didn’t even hear him calling his name as he stood at the doorway, he was deafened to any sound, lost in the depths of his own mind. It wasn’t until he felt strong arms wrapping around him, pulling his head towards a warm chest that he realised Mark was there. Fernando could feel his own face was wet, his eyes struggled to focus through the blurry wave of tears that spilled down his cheeks, further filling whenever he blinked them away. He knew he wasn’t making a sound, just giving into the silence, allowing the salty tears to freely flow.

 

“Mmmo…” Mark’s muffled voice eventually began to break through the silence, thumbs were pressed to his eyes, parting the water. Fernando blinked twice and focussed his eyes to the damp paper in his own hands, the ink on the notebook swirling and seeping into each other, the list he’d made erased. It wasn’t a bucket list, it was just a list of dreams he wanted to achieve. Much to his surprise, another World Championship hadn’t been taken pole position in the list, that top spot had been granted to three small words - _Be a father._ With his saving grace that Mark would never see the sodden list, he let out an audible helpless sob.

 

“Nano?” Mark’s voice filtered through, he sounded strained “I’m here, it’s ok, I’ve got you” His hands holding tightly around his frame. “It’s ok, I’m here, you’re ok, I’m not going anywhere”

 

With his husband in his arms, Mark’s heart ached, he’d never seen Fernando so fraught and broken. He held him, reassuring himself as much as the Spaniard with each word he uttered. He had wondered if Fernando would reach a point where he realised just how close he’d come to meeting his maker, whether that would affect him, he hadn’t thought it would come to such a heart-wrenching head.

 

“Let it out darling, it’s ok”

 

Fernando sucked in a deep breath, his heart beating against his chest, each sob wracking his body with pain.

 

“Nn-n-o… am ok” Fernando insisted, pulling away to wipe his tears on the sleeve Mark’s soft dressing gown.

 

“What brought this on?” Mark tilted his head in concern.

 

“Is nothing”

 

“Doesn’t look like nothing mate” Mark gritted at his husband’s stubbornness. “It’s ok y’know, to feel a bit shaky after all you’ve been through, you’re only human you’re not a robot”

 

“Is not that, is just…” Fernando sighed heavily, wincing as he did so. “You wouldn’t understand” He huffed, wiping more tears that threatened to fall.

 

“Try me!” Mark opened his arms in gesture. “Please, talk to me” continuing a little softer.

 

“Have just been thinking about some things…” He tailed off, rubbing his blotchy reddened face.

 

“Well, when you’re ready, you know you can talk to me about anything. Whatever it is, we’ll work it out together” Mark soothed, taking the cue that Fernando wasn’t ready to discuss it just yet. “Your notes are a bit soggy, hope you’ve remembered those measurements” He gestured with a shy smile. “How about we curl up on the sofa and look for some new furniture for your big plans then?”

 

Fernando looked at him, Mark was really trying and he knew he probably had to be honest with him at some point. But Mark had also never given any indication to him that he’d ever wanted children, so how could he understand why it was something that Fernando so desperately craved, especially as they’d never discussed it as a couple before.

 

“OK” He offered, swallowing thickly as he twitched his lips to a false smile.

 

“C’mere” As the pair rose to their feet, he welcomed the arms that Mark held open for him, resting his head against his husband’s chest his smile slipped into something more genuine.

 

“I don’t have to go tomorrow” Mark spoke softly as he rested his chin on Fernando’s head, tangling fingers through his long messy hair.  “I can stay if you need me” Fernando shook his head in protest, looking up at Mark’s shining eyes.

 

“No, you have to go, I’m completely fine” Fernando worried, the last thing he needed was everyone finding out that he was anything but fit for Bahrain.

 

“Well, you’re not fine” Mark raised an eyebrow “…we’ll see what the doc says tomorrow”

 

“You’re still going” Fernando met the eyebrow with his own stern gaze.

 

“Not if you need me I’m not”

 

“I do not care, are not missing your test, I’ll be fine on my own, completely fine”

 

“Hmph, you’re such a stubborn little shit sometimes” Mark cracked a smile at the little wrinkle that found it’s place just above Fernando’s nose, at times he imagined the little wrinkle was like a cartoon character that jumped out and thumped it’s stubborn foot right on anything Mark said. “No training though, Docs orders! I’m not above making that gym look like Fort Knox mate”

 

“I promise, will listen to the doctor” Fernando pouted.

 

“Well, I’ve organised a jet, so I’m only a few hours away from kicking your arse back to bed”

 

“A jet?”

 

“Mmm, then I can leave when I want to tomorrow” Mark shrugged “and erm, incase you need me, I can be here quicker” Fernando’s heart skipped a beat at the faint blush on Mark’s cheeks, it was a blush that he rarely saw on the Australian, he truly was lucky to have been blessed with such a caring husband. With that he planted a gratitude-charged kiss on Mark’s lips.

 

“Right, well you get comfy on the sofa and I’ll give Timo a call and make sure they haven’t shafted me for a better model”

 

“Is no-one better than you” Fernando grinned, nuzzling Mark’s tired, greying stubble with his nose. “Mi campeon”

 

“Can’t argue with that” Mark huffed a laugh “With that glowing review, remind me to get you to manage my contract negotiations.”

 

—

 

As the day ran on, Mark made the most of every opportunity to cater to Fernando’s every need, his efforts to plump pillows and cooking a nutritious meal had led to a few choice comments about how he should give up racing in favour of becoming the perfect housewife. But joking aside, Fernando enjoyed every moment, even if his caring nature heartbreakingly served more to convince him just how much of a natural father his husband would be.  

 

Much later, as Mark had slipped off to pack his bags and catch up on a few calls with the team for Prologue, Fernando opened a fresh tab beside the furniture websites they’d spent the evening browsing. Tentatively taking a deep breath, he clicked to his secret bookmarked websites that were hidden under the guise of a ‘Samurai’ title, hovering over the links, each providing it’s own wealth of information and advice on the topic, he settled on one he hadn’t dare try before - a forum.

 

**_My husband and I can’t conceive naturally, he’s against adoption, how can I change his mind?_ **

**_I want to have children, is adoption right for me?_ **

**_We’ve recently been approved for adoption but my partner has cold feet! HELP!_ **

**_How can I juggle a career and starting a family??!_ **

 

As he scrolled through the reams of posts from desperate parents-to-be, he wondered why he been so reluctant to try this website before, with each cry for help or anxious need for reassurance he read, he felt a little less alone. Until his eyes trained on post in particular.

 

**_My husband has said in the past he doesn’t want children, but I’m desperate to start a family, how do I broach the subject with him?_ **

**_[45 Replies]_ **

 

He sucked in a deep breath and buried his chin into the soft fabric of Mark’s dressing gown. Over time alone in hotel rooms, he’d allowed himself to daydream of what life would be like with a child of their own, it had never felt more real than a silly little daydream that one day he might raise in conversation. Mark may shoot it down, but with the fresh realisation of how precious life could be, somehow he felt compelled to at least step into the firing line. He clicked the link and began to delve into the in-depth replies, hoping to at least find some help in building up his defences before the battle commenced.

 

—

 

Mark hated the smell of hospitals, the harsh scent of chemicals twisting together with the thick smell of overcooked, processed food, no matter where it was in the world, they all smelt the same. The sights and sounds together with the overwhelming clinical smell always felt like an attack on his senses, he often mused that for a place that was supposed to make you feel better, it sure felt anything but welcoming. Sat in the waiting room alongside Fernando, his leg had more than a touch of Christian Horner about it, the bitter grain of cheap coffee not doing anything to help the situation. Without so much as a look in his direction, Fernando lay a hand on his thigh, soothing his nerves in an instant. Lacing his hand over his husband’s, Mark lifted it to press a simple kiss to the calmer man’s wedding ring, the action raising a smile from his partner.

 

“Señor?” The Nurse gestured towards the open door where she was standing. Standing together, Fernando slipped his phone into his pocket and gritted at the ache from such a simple manoeuvre, gripping Mark’s hand tightly they made their way into the treatment room.

 

When they finally left the hospital, the hand couldn’t have been further from Mark’s. It wasn’t the news Fernando had been hoping for and his perfect patient act was a thing of the past, he was irritable, stubborn and for the first time Mark wasn’t entirely dreading the point he had to leave his side.

 

“You can pull on the door handle all you want mate, it’s not going to open until I’ve unlocked the door” Mark scoffed as he caught up with the pace of the storming Spaniard in the car park.

 

“Well maybe you should hurry up then” Fernando spat in a way that Mark daren’t bother to respond to, as Fernando climbed into the passenger seat, Mark took a moment to inhale a calming breath. _He’s frustrated, of course he is, you’d be the same_.

 

“I have some time if you wanna grab some brekkie?” He uttered, Fernando firmly engrossed in his phone, merely offered a shrug in response. “Right-o Mark, thanks I’d love to” Mark mocked frustratedly. “Ah great Mark, let’s head off” The efforts only receiving a glance through narrowed eyes as Fernando proceeded to press his phone to his ear.

 

By the time Mark pulled up at their favourite coffee stop, he’d grown deaf to the sound of Fernando’s long conversation in Italian to his physio Fabrizio. Whilst he couldn’t understand what was being said, he could tell by the sound of his husband’s voice he was feeling a little lost. Unable to just sit still, Fernando was always on the go, exercising wasn’t something he just did through need. It was a passion and a hobby, one which Mark shared so he could understand how he was feeling at the prospect of more time just sitting and waiting. The Doctor had reassured that the healing process was underway, he’d advised that it could take up to a month to be healed enough for Fernando to get back in the car, even then that would come with risks that he wasn’t happy to sign off on. Resting a hand on Fernando’s thigh, he hoped it would provide at least some comfort.

 

Fernando scowled at Mark’s hand that had invaded his headspace, until his eyes fell upon the Australian’s shiny wedding ring purposely dislodged slightly to reveal the small tattoo beneath. The little ’14’ branded on his partner’s skin never failed to give him goosebumps.

 

“Fabri, am with Mark so I have to go, will call you later” He switched to English for Mark’s benefit, the Australian’s ears pricked up and his face stretched to a smile.

 

“Breakfast?” Fernando smiled. Mark was doing his best, he had to acknowledge that.

 

“Come on, you’ve had to put up with my cooking for the last few days, it’s about time you had some decent grub, it’ll do you the world of good” Mark squeezed.

 

The little cafe was perched up in the Asturian hills, the type of place you wouldn’t know to find, it wasn’t much to anyone other than the cyclists who would frequent it on their rides through the scenic landscape. It was always their favourite stop whenever they were out on the bike together and the lack of passing trade meant it was relatively private, other than the spectacular views, the real draw was the superb coffee and fresh, wholesome food.  

As Fernando gritted his teeth sitting down at one of the empty tables towards the back of the cafe, Mark tried to gesture towards the sofa in the window with the glorious view out over the lush greenery, only to be met by a sharp shake of Fernando’s head. He didn’t want anyone to know of his injuries, so struggling out of a low dipped sofa wasn’t the best idea. With that he had to admit, whilst he was frustrated at the doctor’s verdict, he couldn’t argue that he was completely fit to be climbing back in a Formula 1 car.

 

“So what did Fabri say?” Mark ran his spoon around the foamy head of his coffee.

 

“Will try a ultrasound bone healing machine, is supposed to speed up the process. Then will work a rehab programme together” Fernando sucked in his lips.

 

“You know the Doc said no cycling or running mate”

 

“I know, I was there” Fernando spat sourly.  

 

“Come on, don’t be like that” Mark chastised in a low breath, not wanting to get into an argument, least of all in public. “I just don’t want you to push yourself too soon, it’s not worth it”

 

“I won’t, know what am doing Mark, is just strengthening, cannot just sit and do nothing forever”

 

“Pfff, darling you never sit still, I know it’s tough and a pain in the ar— well, ribs — but please just do what the Doc says, look after yourself, take it slow.” Mark tried to hold Fernando’s eye line, sincerity and hope within his gaze. “Racing with broken ribs is nothing to turn a blind eye to”

 

“You raced with a broken leg” Fernando raised an eyebrow in challenge.

 

“Touché” The Australian laughed, sitting back in his chair. “Hmmm”

 

“I promise to be careful” Fernando smiled slightly at his husband, he knew he only had his best interest at heart, being a racer himself both helped and hindered their judgement. “But will do everything I can to race in Bahrain”

 

“I have no doubt you will” The shared smile relaxing the tension, Mark considered himself as he watched Fernando sipping on his coffee “I don’t mean to be a hardballer, I just…”

 

“You care” Fernando confirmed, flickering his eyelashes over the rim of his coffee cup, he moved his foot to stroke that of his husband. “I appreciate that. Do not worry, go to your test and I will be fine I promise”

 

Whilst Fernando had relaxed, Mark couldn’t push aside the fear that he would do himself serious damage. His eyes carefully passed across the Spaniard’s frame, as though he was stitching him back together and mentally soothing his ailments. But whilst his pain was physical, Mark wasn’t blind to the hints that there was something deeper lying beneath the hard-worn exterior, the broken bones had damaged his armour. Fernando was a deeply passionate and emotional being, a side of him that only those closest to him were privileged to really see. Mark could see there was something within him that felt distant, his smile was broken somehow, he just had to hope that he’d be able to hold on without him for the next few days.

 

—

 

Having the house to himself felt strange, even though they had become accustomed to it, this time it felt cold and empty. With Mark gone he was thankful for the company of their loyal dogs. Out in the garden, with Simba never straying from his side, they wandered into the grass following Shadow who was busy retrieving the ball that Fernando had casually thrown. The air was fresh and crisp, the winter sun was melting away to a warmer spring time heat that soaked into his skin. He felt guilty that he couldn’t take them for a proper walk on such a bright and clear day, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep up with them and their sheer strength meant that dog harnesses were out of the question. The garden would have to suffice.

 

Against his better judgement, he gingerly sat down cross-legged on the grass, the connection to nature making him feel a little more relaxed.

 

“Are such a good boy, Simba” he affectionately rubbed Simba’s golden coat from his place stalwartly beside him. After a few throws of his favourite tennis ball, Shadow made his way bounding back toward them, slowing as he grew nearer until he lay down to join the pair.

 

“Did you feel left out, amigo?” The elder dog licking his hand tenderly. “Do you miss Mark too? Shall we tell him?”

 

—

 

Fer: Good luck, the boys are looking after me and wanted to say hello :) we miss you xx

 

Mark: Glad to hear it bud, have to bring them home some treats ;) How are you feeling? xx

 

Fer: Ok, getting some fresh air in the garden :) Do I get any treats too? xx

 

Mark: Always, I left something for you, you just have to find it ;) Will call you later xx

 

Fernando’s heart skipped a beat, it wasn’t the first time that Mark had left something for him, usually it was one of their signature little notes. Sometimes found beside his toothbrush or in his favourite coffee mug, with a few words of love that helped close the distance. Smiling widely, he slipped his phone into his pocket and looked forward to finding whatever Mark had left behind.

 

—

 

“Uncle Nano!” Fernando opened the door, to the unexpected shrill of his 3-year-old niece’s voice filling his ears.

 

“Mark called, he thought you’d like some company” His sister smiled, stepping into Fernando’s house, with her young daughter resting on her hip. Although he hadn’t divulged any specifics, the tone in Mark’s voice told her everything she needed to know, he was concerned of Fernando’s well being and perhaps some time with his niece would cheer him up a little.

 

“Oh Nano, you need to stop with these terrible crashes, my heart can’t take any more” She pressed a kiss to her little brother’s cheek. “How are you feeling?”

 

“Am a little sore, but will be ok” He laughed, leaning in towards his niece. “Hola Gracie” Her hands reaching out towards him.

 

“Uncle Nano is hurt so he can’t carry you right now, remember?” Lorena cooed, pulling her back slightly.

 

“Maybe you can give some get well cuddles on the sofa?” Determined to erase the crestfallen look on Graciela’s face, Fernando smiled at the excitable nod he received in return as his sister bounced his niece on her hip. “Would you like some juice?”

 

“Coffee?” He directed towards Lorena.

 

“Is more my job, no? Sit Nano!” She allowed Graciela to run off towards the big plush cushions of the sofa, whilst she made her way through to the kitchen. The little girl burying her face in the soft fabric as her little legs tried to scramble onto the sofa.

 

“Lorena, am more than capable of making coffee” Fernando’s stubborn eyebrow dipped, but it held no match for that of his sister.

 

“I don’t care, am here to look after you, so will you let me do my job? Now sit!” She urged, not taking any nonsense, she was more than prepared to unleash full mothering mode on her brother.

 

“Am not a dog” He grumbled, nodding to Shadow and Simba who were happily licking at Graciela’s feet, causing the house to be filled with the sweet nectar of a child’s laughter.

 

“Well you can get Gracie’s juice then” She sighed, locating the singular pink and sparkly cup that he had in his house for his niece. “Will you let her use your favourite cup?” She teased, waving it in jest.  

 

“Is more Mark’s style” Fernando laughed heartily, despite the pain it caused, clutching his side. “Ahh don’t make me laugh” Truth be told, it actually felt good to laugh for a change. He was glad for whatever Mark had said to his sister, her company was just what the Doctor ordered.

 

“That seems like a challenge” Lorena nudged playfully as Fernando poured fresh orange juice into Graciela’s cup and replaced the lid.

 

Easing into the sofa, he welcomed her little body snuggling into his side, pressing a kiss to her soft black ringlet curls as he passed her the juice. She was growing so fast, it only felt like yesterday that she was the little baby causing a stir at his and Mark’s wedding ceremony. After seeing his sister go through so much heartache in conceiving, it meant the world to him that his fortune afforded him the opportunity to help her in any way he could. Despite her initial reluctance to accept his financial help in funding IVF treatment, Lorena and Edoardo soon conceived their little miracle and the rest was history. If he really thought about it, the desire for his own children had stemmed from the overwhelming love he had for Graciela. He loved to watch her learn and grow, to watch her develop her own little personality, discover her likes and dislikes.

 

“Yeugh!” Her newest dislike cut through his train of thought. “Bugs! Juice bugs! No no no!” Her lip wobbled. “Mamaaa!”

 

“Juice bugs?” Fernando sat forward, inspecting the liquid.

 

“She means pulp, she only drinks the juice without the pulp now I’m afraid” Lorena called from the kitchen.

 

“Am sorry, I didn’t think” Fernando stared in dismay at the little girl whose face was curling to a cry, why did he think he could ever be a father if he couldn’t even get something as simple as this right?

 

“No no no! Bugs!” She wailed.

 

“Shhhh cariño, is ok, no more bugs” Pulling her closer, wiping her tears he vowed to replace it, this time opting for the safety of water and distraction of cartoons on the TV.  

 

Once he was safely back in the kitchen, Lorena rolled her eyes at her brother, handing him a freshly brewed cup of coffee in exchange.

 

“You’re lucky you don’t have kids, they’re a nightmare at this age” She laughed, swirling a spoon of sugar in her cup without a second thought, it wasn’t until she returned from delivering the distracted little girl her new drink that she saw the tears falling down Fernando’s face, dripping desolately into his coffee.

 

“Ay!” She exclaimed “Nano?” Trying to rouse a response from her despondent sibling. “Nano, what’s wrong?”

 

“I--”

 

“Are you in pain?” She hurried closer to the kitchen stool he was slumped upon, holding his broad shoulders tentatively, eyes searching for a hint of where the pain was coming from.

 

“Am fine” Fernando mumbled, stiffly drawing a breath before it’s resolve crumbled into a helpless sob. He couldn’t lie to Lorena. It wasn’t that he was lying to Mark, it was just self preservation - for both of them - wasn’t it?

 

“You don’t look fine, what’s wrong? Did Graciela hurt you?”

 

“No-no!” He gasped, meeting her concerned eyes. “Gracie didn’t do anything, she is perfect... is just me, is Mark” He sighed. “is everything… I don’t know what to do” More tears trickling down his face, he sagged into his chest.

 

“Nano?” She reached for the stool to the side of her and came to his level, raising his chin with her finger, she used her thumbs to wipe away the tears that had soaked her brother’s face. “Ay Nano, what is it? You and Mark?”

 

“Mark is great, he doesn’t know. He _can’t_ know, you can’t tell him” He knew it went without saying, but he just had to be sure.

 

“Nano, you’re scaring me. Is it the doctors? What did they say?” Lorena tried to swallow the lump of fear rising in her throat.

 

“No Is nothing scary… well yeah, it’s actually terrifying. But I promise am ok” He forced a smile, sitting up slightly and rubbing his sleeve across his face. “Is something I’ve been thinking about for a while, I just didn’t know how or if it was possible. I’ve tried to convince myself not to want it, but I can’t… it just means _everything_ ”

 

“And this is a problem for you and Mark?”

 

“He say things, I know it isn’t something he wants, which is why it’s so-- ha--rd” His voice broke, Mark’s words swirling around his head like a cruel tease, taunting him as he dared to contemplate what could be.

 

Lorena just looked at her brother, holding her words, allowing him to speak in his own time.

 

With a gentle nuzzle against his leg, Simba caught Fernando’s gaze, although the dog couldn’t speak, he always gave the reassurance and comfort that he needed.

 

“I love Mark and we’re happy, we really are. But I see you, Edo and Graciela and I want that. I want to be a father, I want Mark to be a father, I want to be complete. A family.”

 

“Oh Nano” She smiled gently, rubbing his arm. “But you always said…”

 

“I know... people change”

 

“And Mark?”

 

“He say he doesn’t want chil--” He paused and corrected himself for his own benefit “-- to start a family, which I respect, I knew this when we got together. I just need to get over it”

 

“Have you spoke about how you feel?” Lorena was pressing him much in the way he expected.

 

“He doesn’t feel the same as I do, I need to forget about it”

 

“He said that?”

 

“He doesn’t need to, he said it before we got together”

 

“People change” She raised her eyebrow, gesturing towards him. But it did nothing to convince Fernando, Mark was almost forty, even if he had wanted children, there wasn’t any way that he’d want them now. They’d spoken about what they’d do once they retired, never once was a screaming baby mentioned, nor his desire to take up potty training as a new hobby.

 

“You can’t keep this from him, you know you need to be honest with him, that’s what marriage is about. Especially this, if it means this much to you”

 

“I don’t know if I can, if I say it, it’s all the more real and I don’t know if we could get past it. Is easier to just get over it, I _can_ get over it, it’s just a phase” Allowing the words to flow from his lips as though they were spoken by someone else, hanging in the air over him, like a noose.

 

“That’s bullshit” Lorena uttered, undeterred by the little ears that may hear her. “I’m sorry, but it is Nano. Why would you keep it from Mark? He’s the one you tell all your secrets to, I know that, it’s always been that way, even before you were together. Do you remember the only one you held back from him? How you regretted the time you wasted?”

 

Fernando avoided her gaze, unable to look her straight in the eye, of course he knew what she was referring to. His sister was always straight talking in offering advice, but this wasn’t that simple, she didn’t understand.  

 

“I think you owe Mark more respect than this, when has he ever given you any reason to doubt him?”

 

“This is different” Fernando spat exasperatedly.

 

“How is it different?”

 

“Because he doesn’t feel the same way, I can’t tell him how I feel and risk that look on his face, because I know how I’d feel in that situation, if he wanted something and I couldn’t give it to him. It’ll tear us apart…” The words fell away into a breathy sob.

 

“Or... you could get everything you’ve ever wanted” Lorena lowered to a whisper, resting her hands on Fernando’s thighs in plea. Her words were lowly and simple, but spoke volumes. “Take it from someone who’s been there, when your heart longs for a child, there is nothing that you can do to fill that hole, you can’t go back, you can’t ignore it”

 

“That’s what I’m afraid of” The deep sigh racked through his chest, the physical pain was nothing compared to the turmoil further inside.

 

“Nano, please, just speak to Mark at least give him a chance to prove you wrong. Your feelings changed so could his, maybe it’s something he never considered?”

 

“Mmm” Fernando hummed noncommittally, before he looked into his sister’s eyes, focusing on the flicker of a tear threatening to fall.

 

“No please, please don’t cry” He urged, cracking his broken face into a forced smile. “Is ok, am ok, is just having all this time to think, with nothing to do your mind wanders”

 

“But you solved this for me Nano, you helped to bring Graciela into our lives and it breaks my heart that I can’t resolve this for you, please promise me you’ll speak to Mark”

 

“I promise… I’ll try” He knew what Lorena was saying made sense in a way, but the truth was his feelings hadn’t changed, he’d always wanted children. Circumstance had forced him to suppress those deep rooted desires, he hadn’t struggled with his sexuality, it was something he’d accepted from a very young age. The only part he’d struggled coming to terms with was the fact he’d never be a father. Mark however had known he didn’t want children from the start, come to terms with his sexuality had been more of a hurdle. They were two very different people in some ways, but also painfully alike, which is how Fernando knew that Mark wouldn’t just come round to his way of thinking.

 

\---

 

After the house emptied of visitors, it felt quieter than before, each shallow breath or footstep he made across the tiled floor echoed around the large open spaces, he was alone once more. Having little appetite, he treated the dogs to the remainder of his dinner, under the agreement that neither would tell Mark. Both physically and emotionally exhausted, despite the early hour, Fernando resolved to give into the jetlag and obey Doctor’s orders to get plenty of rest.

 

Peeling off his clothes, he crawled into bed wincing with each slow movement until his head rested on the pillow. The bed felt cold, harsh and empty, craving the warmth of Mark holding him as he drifted off to sleep, Fernando pulled Mark’s pillow down towards his chest, burying his face into it seeking any hint of the Australian’s scent. Before too long it was apparent that no matter how exhausted he was, the solace of sleep would not come.

 

“Por favor” He whimpered to the silent bedroom, hoping that anyone would hear him, of course no-one did.

 

Gathering the last ounce of strength he had, he slipped out of bed, letting his feet dangle before they reached the floor. He swallowed thickly as he caught sight of Mark’s dressing gown purposefully lying across the armchair, he’d left it for him. Delving into the warm, soft fabric, he wrapped it around his frame, ensuring that every inch of his skin was engulfed by it’s comforting touch. Imagining Mark’s arms around him, for the briefest of moments he didn’t feel so lost.

 

Shuffling into the bathroom, he wearily swallowed two painkillers and one of the sleeping pills prescribed to him, each sticking to his throat, he gulped down water hoping that they’d at least stop him from thinking for a few hours. Once he’d rested his achy frame into the mattress once again, for the first time since Mark had left that morning he felt utterly helpless. The after effects of his accident were far from healing, as the Doctors had so eloquently pointed out and with distractions filling his mind and environment, he hadn’t truly realised just how much it was affecting him. He couldn’t ask him to come home, he was where he needed to be, but he needed him more than anything. He wanted to hear his voice, to see his face, but he knew that if Mark took one look at him, he’d be right on that plane.

 

Alone in the darkened bedroom, he allowed himself to be weak, to give into the tears and watch them soak into the dark blue dressing gown. Reaching into the pocket in search for a stray tissue, his fingers danced along a piece of paper, barely catching his breath he pulled it out and stared right at it.

 

Wiping his face with his sleeve, he laughed to himself in disbelief. Of course Mark would leave him a note…

 

_I knew you’d steal this, so I thought I’d make it a bit easier for you - it looks better on you anyway._

_Pull it tightly around yourself and imagine I’m holding you, because it’s right where I want to be._

 

_Darling, I know you’re struggling,_

_I know there are things that you’re fighting in your head and you’re not ready to let me in just yet._

_That’s ok, but just remember whatever it is, we’ll work through it together._

_I’m here whenever you need me. Always._

 

_Te amo siempre, mi amor._

_Mark_

_14 x_

 

_PS: Look after yourself and you’ll be back where you belong before you know it, because you’re a fighter. The strongest I know._

 

Through blinkered tears, Fernando instinctively reached for his phone and held his breath until the dialling tone connected.

 

Ring.

 

Ring.

 

Ring.

 

“Hey you” The familiar tone filled his ears.

 

“M-m-ar-rk” He breathed helplessly, all hopes of composure left shattered.

 

“Nano? Shit, are you ok?”

 

“I-- read--- your note--- gracias--- I, we” Fernando stumbled, unable to find the words.

 

“Take a breath darling, it’s ok, I’m here” Mark pushed fingernails into his palm, trying to remain the voice of calm as he found a quiet corner of the hotel lobby. “What is it?”

 

Fernando mustered all his energy into holding his shaky breath to speak once more, with a sense of purpose, desperate to reassure his concerned husband.

“Am ready to let you in”


End file.
